


Dark

by ElvenMaia, orphan_account



Series: Inkwell [6]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Formenos, Gen, Grandpa Finwë spoils his grandson, Hugs, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kinda fluff, Little Maitimo, Nightmares, Poor Maedhros, The Two Trees of Valinor, What Have I Done, lowkey pretty ominous at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:26:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24092809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenMaia/pseuds/ElvenMaia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Little Nelyo has a nightmares and consoles in his parents about it. It is not a mere nightmare.
Relationships: Fëanor | Curufinwë & Maedhros | Maitimo, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel, Maedhros | Maitimo & Nerdanel
Series: Inkwell [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528916
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Dark

Telperion shone vividly through the galactic navy night. Aman was silent but for the symphony of the night-creatures and the soft padding of bare feet down the chilly halls of Formenos.

Little Nelyo’s hand hovered over the door, slightly shaking yet hesitant. Even as a child, his russet curls were thick and spilt over his slight shuddering shoulders, gleaming with the silver light that seeped through the cracks of shuttered windows. His pale cheeks were moist with silent tears and he shifted from one foot to the other, in conflict with himself.

He knew Ata and Ammë were probably not sleeping but nonetheless he did not want to disturb them. His nightmare had scared him very much, though, and the creak of the walls in the darkness propelled him to burst into the room like a frightened colt.

Ata and Ammë were indeed not sleeping and Nelyo hovered uncertainly in the doorway, biting his lip in habit for when he was scared. The room was dark and he cowered uncertainly.

“Maitimo? Is that you?” Fëanor’s voice called out from where the bed was. It may be odd to think of Fëanor as having a soft voice, but he and Nerdanel alike were still very new parents and naturally relished (nearly smothered) their only child with all the attention and love they possessed, as new parents tend to do. Finwë always admonished them with a _tut tut_ and a mutter under his breath; something about spoiling the child, but when he was alone with his grandchild he was much worse than them, and they all new it. Despite the circumstance, Nelyo has turned out to be a very agreeable, polite child, so that between his mannerism and temperament and porcelain-doll-like face, even strangers would be beguiled over him.

“Yes Ata. I—“ Nelyo’s voice wobbled and cracked at the end. Fëanor quickly propped himself and peered at the small trembling figure shadowed by silver illumination in the path of the open door.

Nerdanel all but gasped. “Maitimo! Child, what ails you? Come; come here. Ammë will hold you.”

Nerdanel used a honeyed voice like she was talking to a baby, but being treated like a baby made Nelyo very cross. But now he was far too scared to be cross. His composure broke and he practically ran into his mother’s embrace.

“Maitimo you’re trembling! Tell me, love; what happened?” Nerdanel said, cradling her baby close to her chest and rocking back and forth soothingly.

“Did you have another nightmare, Nelyo?” It was Fëanor this time.

Tears began to fall once more and he nodded into Nerdanel’s chest.

The couple exchanged a pitying glance and proceeded to comfort their precious child.

A few moments of silence passed as Fëanor allowed Maitimo’s sobs to subside. He lifted the child’s face with gentle fingers under the small chin. Nerdanel felt her heart melt all over again just by looking at her beautiful little baby. Small yet skilled fingers fumbling with each other in anxiousness, the softness of his round little face, his neat little nose and his large, grey glittering eyes framed with coils of the richest russet. Master of her practice as she was, Nerdanel had never been able to truly capture the innocent essence in her son’s perfect youthful face.

“Can you tell us about your nightmare now?” Fëanor asked delicately, his own eyes shining with such deep care Nerdanel herself was close to tears with love for her two boys.

Maitimo nodded in the manner of a wary child and wiped his tears with the back of his hand. He let out a breathy sigh and began quietly.

“It wasn’t the Dark Man like last time, Ata. I could see this one’s face, and he looked just like an ordinary elf. But everything was so _dark_ and so _cold_ and there was no light. It was a small room with iron rope everywhere and it smelled very odd. Almost like fire but different. Ata, I was so _scared_.

The tone in which he used made it sound like a confession, as if being afraid was something to be ashamed of. _Ai, you think yourself invincible, my little Maitimo?_

Nerdanel hugged him closer and stroked his hair comfortingly, while Fëanor tried to make sense of it all.

“It does sound very scary,” he assured seriously. “Is there more?” He ran a finger over Nelyo’s cheeks to rid him of new tears.

Nelyo nodded meekly again.

“Yes. The elf had long red hair, like yours Ammë, but his was straight and he wore strange armor. It was actually quite ugly and pointy.” Fëanor seemed to perk up a bit at this observation. This was something familiar to him, at least. “I think his eyes were scariest of all. They were red and made me feel cold and he was talking but I couldn’t hear the words because they made my head ache very badly and then he touched my face and it _**burned**_ ,” Maitimo paused and his next words came in a tumbling barrage and tears began to collect in his eyes again. “Ammë it was so _dark_ and _cold_ , there were eyes in the shadows and the elf was scaring me and I couldn’t _move_ and I couldn’t _breathe_ , Ammë it was so _scary_!”

Maitimo was sobbing in earnest by the end of it and clung onto Nerdanel with terrified desperation.

Fëanor watched his child with concern and began to rub his back in soothing circles and leaned down to press a kiss to his brow. “It’s alright Nelyo. You’re here with us. Ata and Ammë will protect you, remember that.”

The small family stayed huddled for several minutes, and Maitimo dropped off to the realm of dreams. He stayed with them that night, held protectively in their arms; he was safe. Everything would be alright.

But he never forgot the red-haired elf. Little did he know he would one day live his nightmare, and _much_ , much worse.

oOoOoOo


End file.
